Chapter 10
I stared at the book in my hand. It was time, but; I felt nervous about what might be inside. I tried to convince myself that it couldn’t be anything bad. That I was just overthinking this, but that wasn’t working very much.
I took a deep breath and let it out, allowing my curiosity to overpower the part of me that rather procrastinate. I swung the book open and stared at the perfectly written up page in front of me, then with another quick breath, I began to read.
Hey you,
If you’re reading this, then that means you don’t completely hate me. (Nervous laughs)
Anywho. Please, please, please take your time reading this. I recommend two entries a day (yes; I know it doesn’t seem like a lot... blah blah blah) but I promise you it gets overwhelming and I don’t want you overwhelmed before you have time to process it all.
P.S. I know you probably won’t heed my warning because you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, so bless your heart.
Here goes nothing.
I smiled at what I was reading, recognising Heidi’s unmistakable tone instantly. I wondered what was inside the book now more than ever. Was it a diary of some sort? Did it hold all her secrets?
Curious, I turned to the next page.
I remember the first time I saw you. We were in second grade and you’d just moved here from New York. I overheard our teacher saying there would be a new student, and I wanted to be the first one to meet you.
So, the first morning when you came, I dragged Aria out to the front steps to wait with me. She complained a lot, but I ignored her.
When I saw you step out of that car, I was so excited until I saw your face. You looked so sad like you were about to cry and I don’t know why, but that touched something inside me.
I tried talking to you all day, trying to cheer you up. Nothing I tried worked, and you mostly stayed to yourself. That worried me because you were so quiet. I thought you couldn’t speak.
I begged Maria to take me to the flower shop the next morning. I wanted to buy you flowers to cheer you up, but Maria thought it was a bad idea. She cussed me out for making us late for school, but I didn’t care. I really wanted to get you something.
You never showed up for school that day and the flowers died.
I begged Maria again the next morning. Lol. She had had it with me but she took me, anyway. I got you a bunch of black orchids. I saw them in the flower shop and absolutely fell in love with them. Since then, they’ve been my favourite but sadly, I’m allergic. Sighs.
You showed up for school that day, and I was happy. I’ll never forget the look on your face when I handed those flowers to you. I didn’t know if you’d like them since they were so unusual, but you did. Your sad face lit up into a smile that showed your one dimple and your missing front teeth.
You were adorable.
I slammed the book shut, feeling my throat tightened as the memories she so daintily described resurrected themselves. Memories of us, of how good things used to be. Memories of times that I treasured. A kind of friendship that was impossible to find with someone else. An inseparable bond. Countless hours of laughter, joy.
All gone.
Never to come back.
I felt a sadness took me over. Much like it had when everything first fell apart. The numbing pain that haunted me, the sight of her everywhere, knowing that I didn’t matter to her anymore.
It killed me.
Yesterday my best friend, today a stranger.
I wanted to stop reading now. I definitely understood why she said it would overwhelm but if she could write about this, then surely the reason she did what she did was somewhere inside and I was going to find it.
I deserved that explanation. I needed it and it better be good.
So, I flipped the pages again, ignoring everything in me that scream for me to just burn the damn thing, and continued reading.
That day was the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I didn’t realise it then at seven years old, but you were one of the best things that ever happened to me.
My life hasn’t always been easy, contrary to popular belief. My mother, a European singer, met my dad, a prestigious Judge, in México. I don’t have any details on the romance part. It’s pretty disturbing to even imagine, but not too long after that Tyler came to this world. He was born in México while my mother was still there.
Soon after that, they moved to L.A. to be closer to my dad. It must have seemed like a good idea. I don’t know. Perhaps they wanted the happy family that showed in the magazines and on TV. They kept up their charade for longer than I’d expect though. A whopping eight years. I hand it to them.
But after that everything came crashing down because my dad, Carlos Sánchez, got married behind my mother’s back. Hid it for two whole years and had both women pregnant at the same time.
A disgusting human being, if you ask me.
Can you imagine the hurt that my mother felt? Can you imagine the embarrassment? She loved him and he betrayed her love in the worst way possible. She was heartbroken for months until she finally went back home to the UK.
A couple of months later, I was born. Heidi Sánchez. My mother wanted to give me her name but changed her mind at the last minute. Oh, how I wished she hadn’t. I wish she had done so many things differently.
I wish she didn’t have to go back on tour when I was only five years old. I wish she hadn’t run out of money or take me to live with my dad. She should’ve kept me and fought with me.
But that didn’t happen.
So, at five years old I became motherless and ended up living with a stranger and his wife and a little girl who I was to call my sister.
At first, it was exciting. I had someone to play with, and she was welcoming. She shared all her toys and accepted me without question. But as the years went by, the depression kicked in. She had a mother, and I didn’t.
She had someone to run to when her tummy hurt or when she fell, and I had to suck it up. She had countless cuddles, mother-daughter time, and I had lonely days wishing, hoping that my mother would come back for me.
She never did.
I resented her for that. I resented everyone.
Then you came along and you changed everything.
You were constantly there when I needed someone. You showed me love when no one else would. A lot of what I know today is because you taught me how to be brave, how to put my foot down and stand up for what I believed in. You were more a mother to me than she ever was.
You quickly became the only person with who I could talk and share my life experiences. Somehow, you brought me and my sister even closer and filled my days we happiness.
For a long time, you were my rock, and you were my inspiration. Sometimes I wonder if I’d ever make it without you. You thought me to love myself and you made me realise that all those years when I thought they broke me, they didn’t.
You thought me that my past doesn’t define who I become, that no matter what I go through in life I will always bounce back and find my happy place.
Carlos didn’t like that.
He thought I was becoming too ‘political’ and I had too many opinions about things. He blamed you for that. So, the summer before seventh grade, he sat me down. He asked me about you. Why I liked you so much. I was so dumb back then. If I knew then what I know now, I would’ve kept my mouth shut. But stupid little me. I wanted his attention. I wanted him to love me.
I spilt my entire guts out to him only for him to tell me we, you and I, couldn’t be friends anymore.
My heart leapt. Wait, what? This was it? I scanned the pages again, re-reading the same paragraph over and over until the words stained my vision.
But why?
I continued reading.
“But why?” I asked him. I couldn’t understand. You were my friend.
“We have a reputation to uphold.” He told me in his cold, lifeless voice.
“What does that have to do with her?”
“You will not continue this friendship, Heidi Sánchez. The life I’ve imagined for you does not involve you being gay or in an interracial relationship.”
I felt my throat tightened at the words I read. Racism wasn’t something I experienced much because my mom shelters us from it but whenever I did it would hurt like a bitch. More often than not I was too white to be black or too black to be white, which is so fucked up because then I don’t belong anywhere.
Heidi never once made me feel like my skin colour mattered, but obviously her father did.
I never thought my father was a racist man before that and I never saw you any different from anybody else just because your skin was a shade darker than mine.
You were a person, and I saw you as a person.
That was the first time I went against what my father wanted because he wanted something from me that would prevent me from living. I couldn’t give you up. So, I told him no!
His response was not gentle at all. He promised me he would not have a homosexual child and that I would not continue to be friends with you or else I’d be disowned and placed in foster care.
He fed off my worst fears. The one thing I feared more than losing you was being abandoned again, and that threat would’ve made both of them come true. I would’ve lost you, anyway.
So, I did what I thought was best at the time and hoped that after a while, when I was less impressionable, I could stand up for myself and fight for you again.